


Language Lessons 7: Retorted (JS/JS, 1200 words)

by ImpOfPerversity



Series: Language Lessons [7]
Category: Baroque Cycle - Neal Stephenson, Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: 1 Sentence Fiction, Languages, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-26
Updated: 2005-02-26
Packaged: 2018-11-12 12:08:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11161527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpOfPerversity/pseuds/ImpOfPerversity





	Language Lessons 7: Retorted (JS/JS, 1200 words)

  
  
This was hedonism, pure and simple: to fling the portholes open wide, and let the sweet fresh wild air, redolent with the herbage and aridity of this uncharted, unpeopled isle, force out the stale miasma that'd gathered over these last weeks, distilled from breath and sweat and seed, from Jack and Jack waking and sleeping, talking and fucking; Jack Sparrow could not loathe that odour, for it was the scent of unaloneness, of himself and Shaftoe together in one bed -- together, indeed, in one another, tongues and fingers and a cock and a half -- but that did not mean that it was necessarily _pleasant_ ; today, the warm island air rushed into every corner and crevice and nook of the cabin, forcing out old odours (though Jack thought there might be a stray linen garment, stiff as a stockfish with sweat or worse, still lurking somewhere beneath his sea-chest and perfuming the place) and replacing them with sage and sand and salt; and into the cabin too, through every open port and scuttle, poured ambery afternoon light, warmer and brighter than any lanthorn, running and teeming over himself and Jack Shaftoe as they lay entwined, curled around one another, still sheened with effort and exultation; "like snakes," he murmured, continuing his thought aloud, "like snakes in the sun, soaking it up;" and Shaftoe pushed sleepily at him, crowding closer, murmuring, "'tis true, what they whisper 'bout you, Jack; you're quite quite mad, and here I'm lying, hard by a lunatic --"; "hard?" enquired Jack mischievously, sliding his hand down 'tween them to be sure; "-- hard by a lunatic, trapped and 'scapeless, and this lunatic, my love, he's on about _snakes_ , for Christ's sake," and Jack, beaming at his love, said, "like snakes, Jack; I mean we're twisted together like a knot of snakes in the sun," and Shaftoe, with a wrinkle of a frown that made Jack frown to see it, suddenly smiled and said, "aye, **retorted** ;" and it was Jack's turn to roll eyes, sigh all Dramatickal, and cry, "who's the lunatic now, eh, Mr Shaftoe? retorted _what_? and who's retorting?" to which Shaftoe, eyes all wide blue innocent as ocean, answered sweetly, "Why, Jack, I thought 'twas a _common_ term: **retorted** , which is to say, entwined like a pair of snakes -- though you and I, we've _limbs_ to wind round one another," and he hooked his knee higher on Jack's leg, and crooked his elbow round Jack's shoulder, and having brought him thus closer, kissed him, all long and slow and sweet and clever, with their tongues teasing at one another and parting only slowly; and Jack, his curiosity sparked and set alight (for Shaftoe, though unlettered, was no fool, and startled Jack day in day out with all his mazy varied knowledge; the words he'd heard and learned and parroted back, though 'twas no parroting, for he'd understanding; the far storied citadels he'd seen, the roads he'd tramped, the stories he'd heard and told and sometimes recounted, warped beyond recognising, to Jack's eager ear: aye, his love's no fool, though he'd play it when it suited him), demanded, "what word's that, then, and in what tongue?" to which Jack Shaftoe, smug and superior and amused, replied, "Well, Jack, I don't s'pose a mere _sailor_ would've heard of it, no, ow, stop that or I won't tell ... but back in Christendom, and most 'specially England, every lordly knight carries his shield (or mostly has some poor sod staggering behind with a week's worth of 'em, clanging like kettles and much less use; but I digress), and blazoned on each is his Device; and when we were lads, Bob and I, there were more than a few blokes in the Regiment who'd tell us how to read a shield -- aye, read, though we'd neither our letters nor our numbers -- and learn from what was shown there the knight's name, and his kin, and his ancestors back to the beginning; and though you and I might say 'a pair of fucking snakes' -- or, ha, 'a pair of snakes, fucking,' so's not to have _description_ mis-taken for _expletive_ \-- the proper, courtly, _heraldic_ way of saying that is 'serpents, retorted'; and 'tis a language all to itself, like to French or the zargon or Sabir, though p'rhaps not with _quite_ so many ways to say a thing; but yet, if you've a shield before you with lines and bands and beasties and emblems, all painted and bright, then I'll lay it out for you in pretty words, and tell you besides of the knight's familial ties and allegiances -- though, Jack," and now Jack Shaftoe was laughing, with that rueful wry to his mouth that (like so many Shaftoe-smiles, of which there seem'd an infinite variety) made Jack long to kiss it, "I don't see that it's of much use here, out in the broad Pacific, with nary a war-charger or a noble knight for a thousand miles around;" and Jack -- first giving in to that urge to kiss, and taste Jack Shaftoe's curious tongue -- said, "so whatever we do, you and I, there's a, what was it, an _heraldic_ term for it, aye?" and Shaftoe (perhaps distracted by Jack's kiss) murmured unthinking agreement: then gasped as Jack ducked down and set his mouth to Jack Shaftoe's Remnant, suckling it swiftly to fullness: mouth full, he could not speak, but he waggled his eyebrows and made an enquiring noise, and Shaftoe -- trembling deliciously at the feel of Jack's question -- said triumphantly, breath hitching, "engoul'd, Jack, that's _swallowed_ , oh god oh god please," and just the renewed taste of Shaftoe's cock was enough to swell Jack's own: he drew back, scrabbling one-handed on the shelf for the grease, and to Shaftoe's grumbling complaint said, "phant'sy if I'd a forked tongue like a snake, eh, Jack? how I sh'd tease and tickle you then," and Shaftoe groaned, and laughed, and spread his thighs wider, opening again: the look in his eyes as Jack slathered them both with aromatic salve, and lined his yard up like a knight at a joust, was ardent and affectionate at once, and Jack phant'sied his heart showed unshielded on his own face as he pushed -- first hard, then slow and gentle -- into, inside, Jack Shaftoe's incendiary body; with his head next to Shaftoe's on the mattress, and Shaftoe's gasps and sighs sweet as rum to, and against, his ear, he murmured, "Impalement, then?" and felt the twitch of muscle everywhere, from the curve of Shaftoe's throat to the firm ridged lines of his stomach to the strong tenacious sheath of his arse, as Shaftoe huffed a laugh, and shook his head, and said, "nay, Jack, the word's _enfiled_ , which is to say pierced -- though 'tis usually shown as a sword, you know, not that I'm complaining of your _tool_ ; and thou and I, we're _joinant_ , or, as some say, _conjoined_ , which I trust I need not oh do that harder and I'll _demonstrate_ another phrase, oh Christ Jack," and Jack felt Shaftoe's whole body tense and leap under, around, him, and Shaftoe, gasping and spilling all hot and pearly, proclaimed triumphantly, " _goutée d'argent_."

You can find all these heraldic terms, and _many_ more, illustrated at [An Illustrated Dictionary of Heraldry](http://www.aragon10.free-online.co.uk/dictionary/blazonfront.html). Usual disclaimer: [](http://tessabeth.livejournal.com/profile)[**tessabeth**](http://tessabeth.livejournal.com/) ~~made me do it~~ influenced me. Shaftoe's knowledge of heraldry is canon. Ish.  



End file.
